November 16, 2013

The Promise of Gold, Segment III (And an Announcement)

Hello! As you may have heard, I'm stepping back from NaNoWriMo 2013. I'll still be off for some time, but may return earlier than expected. I'm currently in the process of preparing posts for the upcoming "NaNo off-season" in December and now late November. Please bear with me!

Grainy sunlight through the open window looking out of the rafters illuminated specks of dust rising from the insulation and from Ginelle's hair as she rose. Reaching for her toes, Ginelle nearly yawned with a minuscule squeak if she hadn't remembered where she was. Curious as to what activity was going on in the streets, she scrambled over Ivy – fast asleep, as usual – and glanced out the window. Morning Marleybonians rushed to complete tasks, whether they were gathering groceries or running supplies to the building ports. Ginelle loved the excitement, as it was so different than the morning silence of Skull Island. Everyone seemed to be fast asleep until midday unless they were to be sailing or fishing.
On a street corner, several nobles chattered among themselves. Listening in, Ginelle realized that they were discussing a large theft.
"No, it was a cat!" one enraged terrier snapped, "And it even said hello!"
"That's the point, Richardson," a schnauser grumbled, "It didn't have an accent, so it couldn't have been a cat." Richardson rolled his eyes and leaned against the brick wall. Meanwhile, back in the rafters, Ivy yawned, rubbing the crud from her eyes and the dirt from her cheeks.
"G'morning, Ivy," Ginelle chirped, "Did you hear about the thefts last night?"
"No," Ivy lied, curling back up on top of a sack. Fatigue's hand was covering her eyes, she thought to herself, remembering a childhood idiom. She uncurled once more, stretching her arms and legs out. Sitting up, she inhaled slowly, breathing in the dust and decay of the wooden rafters. No wonder they were so soft – the wood easily took in the Marleybonian humidity. "Today," Ivy decided, "We're going to get that gold out, won't we? I'll be checking with the -" Ivy yawned, "-the orphanage to double-check how much money they need." Ginelle furrowed her brow.
"We didn't agree on that," she protested, "You said we'd take a couple sacks of the gold and put it on the doorstep, just as a donation." Ivy glanced over, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm a pirate," she reminded Ginelle, "I make deals." Slipping her boots on, Ivy crouched, unable to rise to full height. Ginelle sighed.
"You and your barbaric ways," Ginelle muttered, "I'll never understand them." Ivy lowered the ladder into the shop and snuck down with Ginelle, raising it back up before the next shopper arrived. As the two stepped into the streets, they had grown in both population and bustle. Even Ivy was fascinated as she wove through the streets and towards the shipbuilding port.
"Hey!" an engineer called out, running towards the thief and musketeer, "Hey, you!" Ivy froze, her face falling. She wasn't sure if she recognized the face of this engineer or not. She was a taller dog toting a bright red wrench. "The crocogators," she complained, making Ivy relax right away, "They've been escapin' from the sewers and getting at our supplies! We need better fighters to go down in the sewers and batter back the beats. Would you?" Ivy scowled. Ginelle, however, made the decision before the swashbuckler could protest.
"We'd love to!" Ginelle exclaimed, shaking the dog's hand and running towards a large sewer grate at the end of a ramp, dragging Ivy by the sleeve. Ivy ran along, grimacing.
"Sewers smell," she complained, "Do we really have to -"
"Of course we do!" Ginelle exclaimed in her sing-song tone, "I gave the engineer my word!" Ugh, you too? Ivy thought, One was enough.
"Listen!" Ivy snapped, making Ginelle jump, "We're here to get the gold, deliver the sum, and get out! There is no time to be completing petty tasks for townsfolk." Ivy folded her arms and turned away. She didn't understand why Avery had assigned her to work with Ginelle, or to even deliver the sum of money in the first place. "If you'd like, I can get the gold myself."
Without another word, Ivy strode away, disappearing in the shelter of another shadow. Ginelle sighed and shook her head to herself, continuing into the sewers, climbing down a ladder into the gunk. Oil lamps flickered against white tile that eventually continued into just concrete to make up ceilings and floors. Ginelle's footsteps sent noise throughout the corridors, making her shiver. Occasionally breaking the silence up, a knee-high crocogator marched by, snapping at the air occasionally.

"Poor, delusional creatures," Ginelle sighed.

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